


it feels like home

by spheeris1



Category: The Bletchley Circle
Genre: F/F, F/M, Introspection, Multiple Loves, Post-Series 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 04:52:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spheeris1/pseuds/spheeris1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(check the tags, all mistakes are mine)</p><p>"And yet here she is, finally ready to see what might be in this brave new world that she has worked so hard to find and to accept."</p>
            </blockquote>





	it feels like home

/ /

Eventually they return to England.

Skin a bit more tan, eyes a bit more wide-open, and with invisible lines of the lands found and of the seas traveled on their bodies, with the taste of something brave and wild still pleasantly lingering on the tongue.

But, eventually, they come back home - for England will always be home, the place where she learned to walk, to run, to lie, and to love - and she thought that perhaps it would feel cold after so much heat, but no… no, it is not like that at all.

The arms of these familiar roads and the scent of the trees she has known since childhood welcome her back with a warmth that bowls her over, that pulls nostalgic tears from her eyes and causes Timothy’s arm around her shoulder to squeeze in recognition.

After adventures made and won, they are back where they belong.

/ /

She had kept in touch, though not nearly as much as she had planned.

Millie managed to get one more promise out of her - ‘ _send us a postcard…_ ' - and so that was the first thing Susan did; scribbling in the hours when she should have been asleep, the journey hanging heavy on her shoulders - exhaustion and excitement rolled into knots that she could not shake loose. And she wrote with fondness, with a care that extended to Millie and to Millie alone, and she swore that this would be the first of many notes of correspondence…

…as if it were owed, as if she would always owe Millie something so intangible but no less real…

But life has a way of stripping a person of their purpose, both in wonderful and wicked ways, and as the days passed, Susan lost track of when she had last said a word - written or otherwise - to anyone from the life she left behind.

And it was wonderful, the cut of the sand beneath her bare feet and watching the smiles of her children as they ran against the surf; it was wonderful, all the nooks and crannies of this new world, stealing her breath away with burning spires of amber and the pitch black sky dotted with blinding white stars.

And it was wicked, too - nightmares that still wanted to cling, dark and cloying monsters of the mind, and it was finally telling Timothy everything about Crowley, about the sickness of seeing slack-jawed faces in the shadows and the terror, oh god the terror, and how she still finds her fingers stiff with holding onto a bomb let go of long ago.

And suddenly three years in another country had gone by, with faces that Susan had grown to call friendly and Sam surly with growing pains and Claire eager to catch up to her brother and Timothy with touches of gray starting at his temples - ‘ _It suits you.’ ‘Oh, does it now?_ ' - and suddenly Susan realized that the demons she had been trying to outrun for so long were merely ashes now, lit up by her leaving and then slowly brought down over time, burnt by the honesty that she once kept at bay.

Honesty about the war, about Bletchley, about her hopes and her fears, about the constant turning of her brain, about feeling helpless and yet feeling invincible, too, and yes, even about love - for her own reflection in the mirror, for the sweet faces of her daughter and her son, for a husband that she would easily marry all over again…

…and for a woman back in England, the one who swore that they would never be ordinary, the one who captured Susan’s grins in the middle of the night as they dreamed up a future, the one who believed in Susan long before that faith became a reality, the one who Susan knew she could turn to, even after years and regrets had kept them apart…

…for Millie, the love of that other life.

/ /

She places a call to Jean first, a week or so after they are back on English soil, empty boxes and packing paper surrounding her at every turn in this new house.

Jean, in her usual fashion, relays the passing of events with efficiency - how well Lucy is doing within Scotland Yard, how Alice and her daughter have made full amends, how Millie has found another job that makes good use of her translation skills - but there are things held back, on both sides of the conversation, and Susan wonders if there will always be a moment of hesitation between the four of them.

Is it safe to talk of what we know? Is it wise to be seen together? Will we forever be looking over our shoulders?

Theirs is a bond that was formed, after all, over deception and secrecy and so these connections remain hidden from the rest of the world, from employers and from lovers, from neighbors and from strangers alike.

Of course, Susan has broken this fast and the glimmer in Timothy’s eyes speaks of nothing but pride, of an understanding that comes from his own experiences, and Susan counts herself as lucky; lucky to have found someone who could know the truth and not alter their opinion of her, to look at her with amazement instead of doubt.

But then Susan has seen that trusting gaze before and she smiles to herself as she rests the telephone back upon its cradle, affection tugging at the corners of her lips; she thinks of Millie and she smiles, a reaction that is as natural to Susan as breathing, and that is how Timothy finds her - newspaper under his arm, a knowing tilt to his head as he watches her, indulgent with the soft sigh that passes his lips.

"Will you be home for dinner then?"  
"I might not."

And his kiss finds her forehead and it feels like a blessing.

/ /

Susan has never dared to pinpoint the actual moment that her heart created a space for Millie, but in between the rabble of warfare and the whispering world in which they lived, love took root.

But it was better to keep this revelation as quiet as the work that they performed, that’s what Susan believed and so that is what Susan set out to do.

Every glance shared, every touch bestowed, every plan made after-hours, Susan made sure to lock them away - behind her bones, stitched to her muscles - and waited to see if these feelings would wither with time, if there would ever be a day where Susan would not see Millie as bigger than life itself and want to sink into the other woman’s presence.

That day never arrived, though.

And so Susan did what she had to do in order to make such emotions stand down - she found a way out.

Not that she doesn’t love Timothy, oh she does, and the paths that she has taken have come with great joy…

…but there were things forsaken, tender and lovely things, and Susan knows that no amount of explanations will ever bring those lost ships to shore again.

And yet here she is, finally ready to see what might be in this brave new world that she has worked so hard to find and to accept.

Here she is, standing opposite the door to Millie’s life, just like she did not so long ago; here she is, knuckles soft upon the wood, and once Millie’s face is in front of her again, it’s like the very first second Susan ever saw her - 

…leaning confidently against the side of one of the huts, cigarette smoke swirling around her head like magic…

\- and it all comes rushing back, every scrap of adoration once held aloft now floods Susan’s body, and that’s how Millie finds her - one hand on her fashionable hip, a knowing tilt to her head as she stares at Susan, indulgent with the quiet sigh that passes her lips.

"Are you back for a while then?"  
"Yes. Yes, for a good while I should think."

And Millie opens the door a bit wider, stepping back to let Susan in, and it feels just like coming home…

…because home will always be wherever Millie is.

/ /

**(end)**


End file.
